“His wife’s an invalid, with a wasting disease,” Kim said. “That was what he stole the money for. Carnforth worked him all hours, she was worsening, and he needed to ensure she was cared for. I pay him extremely well and give him whatever time off he requires, and I got them a small flat downstairs so he’s always close to her when he’s needed. He would be a fool to throw this place away. I don’t think he’s a fool.”

“No.” Will tried to picture the dour Mr. Peacock consumed by love to the point of crime. His imagination balked. “I suppose you know what you’re doing.”

“Of course I do. Actually, he was overjoyed when you turned up, for a very Peacockian definition of joy: it let him demonstrate his exemplary discretion at last. You must have noticed you barely set eyes on him for months.”

“I thought that was just—I don’t know. Good timing?”

“His good timing, executed with the precision of a surgeon. You might have gone on thinking this flat was staffed by friendly elves forever if I hadn’t put my foot down.”

“He was pretty invisible,” Will admitted.

“I expect he needed to get it out of his system. He was poised to ignore me bringing men home on a nightly basis, and was quite annoyed I didn’t.”

“Didn’t you?”

“Certainly not. That’s what discreet hotels are for.”

“Come off it. You brought me here quick enough.”

“But you were always different,” Kim said simply, as though the words wouldn’t punch into Will’s gut and leave him breathless. “Anyway, that’s Peacock, and don’t even think about letting on that you know. We do not discuss it. But if some enterprising newspaperman identifies him and runs ‘Criminal Household of Noble Killer’ or what-have-you, dredging it up—”

“Hell.”

“I don’t know how to avert that. I don’t know how to avert trouble from you either, and don’t tell me you can look after yourself. I know you can, but this is not your world.”

“What sort of trouble are you expecting?”

“All of it. The Press, my father. The future, unless you’re planning to tell me it won’t affect you in the slightest that I might become a marquess, and that we’ll be able to carry on as we like without any suspicion or inconvenience. But you aren’t usually a liar.”

“That makes one of us,” Will said automatically. He didn’t want to face up to everything Kim had listed, not yet. Not ever, really, but if he had to, he needed thinking time first. “Talking of liars, are you going to tell me why you wanted me to distract the doctor last night?”

“Eh? Oh, that, yes. Fairfax had a tattoo on the underside of his wrist.”